


drawing with the eyes

by Florchis



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Body Worship, F/M, MCU Kink Bingo, Nudity, erotic art
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:15:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26604313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Florchis/pseuds/Florchis
Summary: Posing for an erotic drawing does not end exactly as Fitz imagined.
Relationships: Leo Fitz/Bobbi Morse
Comments: 13
Kudos: 14
Collections: Florchis's MCU Kink Bingo





	drawing with the eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zuziuchna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zuziuchna/gifts).



> Happy Birthday, Zuza!!! Hope you had a lovely day and enjoy the boost the Fitzbobbi tag had in your day :)

Posing in the nude is hard enough without a woman like her watching over you, Fitz thinks while he suppresses the urge to scratch an imaginary itch on his hip. In his position, he can not look her in the eyes (her face is partially hidden behind her sketchbook anyway) but he can imagine them, laser-focused and fully engaged on noticing and drawing down every little detail of his body, every little flaw and ever little ugly-

He shifts unconsciously, trying to dissipate the intrusive feelings, and he feels guilty immediately after. _Move as little as possible_ , she said, and he can't even do that for her.

“Are you doing okay, Fitz?”

It is uncanny how just a small movement can make her aware that he is struggling. Of course, he only knows how to deflect. “I still don’t understand why you need to use me as your model.”

It takes her a moment to reply; Fitz can imagine her pondering whether or not to drop her previous question or not, and he almost sighs in relief when she does, but _no moving, Fitz._

“There were no male models available on the timeslots I can go to school.”

“And couldn't you use a woman?” Actually, he already knows the answer. They have talked about the implications of over-sexualization and objectifying of women, in art and in all aspects of life, and he loves her for the way she feels so strongly about this and also makes sure to get her point across to her teachers. 

“No, I could not. If you want to stop, we will stop, even if for just a while or completely.”

“No, it’s okay.” There are, after all, plenty of reasons while he said yes when she asked in the first place, and being willing to do almost anything to help her is not the least one of them. 

Silence falls in between them once more, and Fitz gets back in position again. She doesn’t usually talk when she draws and to fight the boredom he tries to distract himself thinking about his own projects. It doesn’t really work: no matter how much he tries to think about something else, she ends coming back to the drawing and how awful it will look, and how he will be the downfall of her project and-

“Relax, Fitz, nobody will know it is you.”

Damn, that is a side of things he hadn’t even considered, other people seeing him in her final work. But now that she mentioned it… “Right, because your friends don’t know you are not using any model. People can add two and two, Bobbi.”

She puts the sketchbook down and Fitz feels guilty once again. She asked him to lay on their bed and not move for a little while. It really wasn’t that much to ask of him.

“Do you want to know why I specifically asked to draw you?”

He frowns.

“Unavailability of male models and-”

She waves the hand that is still holding the pencil in a dismissive gesture.

“Not a lie, but not my main reason.” Her voice is different, and Fitz twists his neck to be able to see her face. “I want to draw you because I want people to be able to see you the way I see you. I want _you_ to see yourself the way I see you.” 

She kneels at the side of the bed and the way the afternoon light makes her hair flow makes him hold his breath. How can he even begin to process what she just said when she is, herself, such a vision? She raises her hand and Fitz needs to fight the instinct to close his eyes like he used to do when he was a child and a priest blessed him. It is, at its very core, the same anticipation on his solar plexus But instead of drawing a cross on his forehead, Bobbi places the tip of her pencil very softly on his hairline and runs it gently in between his eyebrows and eyes, over his nose and mouth, down his chin, neck, and chest, around his navel, up to the hair in between his legs. There was no pressure in the smooth movement- Fitz doesn’t think he will have graphite residue, even- but he feels split open, a completely different man to emerge from the hatch she just broke apart.

The change is immediate: if being watched by her as an artist made him nervous and self-conscious, being watched by her as a lover is intoxicating. Her pupils are blown over and Fitz gasps in a handful of air, feeling like he will choke if he doesn't drive in at least a minuscule particle of her inside of him. 

“Tell me more?” His voice is rough, both arousal and desperation, and Fitz blushes a bit because of it before realizing that he wants to know if she likes that, too.

“About what?” She is playing cool now, her pencil tapping against his hip, but her quick breathing betrays her aloof facade. A more insecure version of himself would wonder if she gets this agitated from drawing any nude model, woman or man alike, but feeling like this right now would completely cheapen the world she is trying to put on display for him. 

“About the way you see me.” It was a question in his mind, but it comes out of his mouth firm, even if a bit desperate. 

Bobbi nods, not playing anymore. 

“You can’t even imagine, Fitz. The way I look at you, but mostly the way I _see_ you. I see beauty and I see grace and I see love.” She moves the pencil from his hip to his waist, not so gentle anymore. Too enthralled with her voice and her eyes, he doesn’t mind. “I feel every bead of sweat on your skin calling for my tongue.” The pencil moves down his ribcage and that will definitely leave a mark. “I see every line as the receptacle of a kiss. Every curve as a void to be filled with my body.” She moves the pencil through the same path it first traveled, but now up to his lower lip. Fitz doesn’t even think before opening his mouth and wrapping his tongue around the tip. He relishes the gasp the gesture rips from Bobbi, though she keeps going. “Every freckle as a landmark for my travels. But pretending that I could be content enough with etching every detail down in my memory would be a lie, I see you and I want everything.” He moves past the pencil to start lapping on her fingers, and her voice breaks. _“Everything,_ Fitz. If I could interweave your skin with my skin, so I could feel the way it feels, I would do it.”

He bites down on her wrist at hearing her say that, the pencil that once felt sacred forgotten between them. He would never cause her damage, but if her job and education didn’t depend that much on her hands, he would probably have bitten down harder. He feels ferocious, and he can understand the need for a piece of her much closer than any physical intimacy could allow. 

“You need to be Bobbi so there can be Bobbi for me.” It is a selfish statement: she is so much more, beyond and above, than the woman he loves, and he loves too that she is bigger than the bond they share, but here, now, that can not matter. 

His hands are demanding on their own right when he reaches out for her. She is wearing too many clothes, he decides while he rips apart the buttons to access her golden, feverish skin. Fitz feels himself falling more and more delirious as he undresses her. She does not help him in any way but makes her body be docile and pliant to his demands. Fitz does not stop until she is as undressed as he is, and when he finally pulls her into the bed with him, she snaps into motion, her hands finding and following and filling all the empty places she described on his body and that do exist only to be completed by her.

Maybe they will never be able to understand how the other sees them, but if this is as close as they will get, he thinks while he finally pins her down with a kiss, he is willing to die trying.

**Author's Note:**

> [This (NSFW)](https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HIvKRBT8uWk/Wp1XbOsdbnI/AAAAAAAA9Xw/_O-8-gMezng90LKrcHf4AOVAb-eipKB6ACLcBGAs/s1600/sleep167.jpg) is the position I imagined for Fitz, in case you are curious.  
> **  
> This fills the "Modeling for erotic photographs or art" square in my [ MCU Kink Bingo Card.](https://florchis.tumblr.com/post/626809817543131136/its-that-time-of-the-year-again-now-unlike)  
> I'm accepting prompts for it on[ my Tumblr](http://florchis.tumblr.com/ask) or here!  
> *  
> This story is part of LLF Comment Project, whose goal is to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites:
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Prompts
>   * Image reactions
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> This author replies to comments (but it might take a while). If you'd rather not get a reply, please add *whispers* to your comment.



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